The one with the most toys still dies in the end.

Everything is moving in slow motion.
There are so many things that are so uncertain.
What does the next two months have in store for me? - What lies at the end of those two months?
Where will I be in the next five months?  What progress will I have made towards anything?

I am trying so hard to record my music, but I just can't seem to get the hang of the program I am using...
Everything I do sounds terrible compared to how it could sound...

One day I am everything - the next I am nothing.
One day I am so full of emotion and glee that I could burst... The very next second.. I'm talking 12:00:01 AM - I am an empty shell.

The Decemberists are a great coping mechanism.

Silverstein seems to understand what I want to say but can't.

Milo O'Milo is me unfiltered.

Milo O'Milo needs so much work.

I mapped out the finances... I have done the research...

I need $2,250.00 in order to accomplish what I need to do.

That is supposed to happen in less than seven weeks...

Seven weeks with no job...

I am trying to take the road less traveled, but that shit is hard, man!

What the hell does Robert Frost have that I don't? - Besides talent, okay, you assholes who leave anon. comments.

I am hopeful that everything will work out.  There is just a lot that needs to happen on my end.

My dad sure knows how to pick 'em.

I hated the smell of fakeness every morning that I woke up.

That woman knows nothing about me; hell, my own mother and father know so little about who I have become.

I am going places.  I am going to make something of myself, and the only one responsible for that is myself.  Yes I have people there and here to help me out and I couldn't do half of what I do without them, but in the end it was me who made it happen.



You wait and see...  You are gonna see this name one day.  You will remember it.

I love you - you know I do.

Lets all go down together, shall we?